


a better definition of a bad day.

by leviathanchronicles



Series: danganronpa character studies [1]
Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Character Study, Gen, Lowercase, Stream of Consciousness, Survivor Guilt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-11
Updated: 2019-07-11
Packaged: 2020-06-26 07:18:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,053
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19763266
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/leviathanchronicles/pseuds/leviathanchronicles
Summary: so you say "crap, i guess that's that" -- you build a bridge, and you move on.or, makoto naegi's execution.





	a better definition of a bad day.

**Author's Note:**

> 1\. ah yes ANOTHER character study. as always i don't remember what's canon ever i just kind of type  
> 2\. makoto's execution absolutely horrifies me :( idk what about it kills me but ugh it's SCARY  
> 3\. title and summary are from "mattie's lament" from we are the tigers !  
> 4\. i love comments and kudos :)

_bang_.

he didn't get to see before he was latched into his seat, but he knows what's coming. it'd be better if he could see; face down the enemy and you'll still be afraid, but at least no one can call you a coward.

but he is a coward, isn’t he?

he had cried out, had begged them to understand even as he was condemned -- oh, he is bound for death, but he wants his innocence to scream out. he does not wish to leave them feeling guilty, but they’ll escape, and what will they tell his family? oh, his family -- he doesn’t want them to believe that he could be a murderer.

_bang_.

he's quiet, now. he doesn’t scream. his breath comes out in quick beats of tragedy, a thousand for every drop. he can't feel his heart beat, but the ache in his chest reminds him he’s still alive. he wants to be alive, if only to feel the blood rush through his body.

he woke up in a classroom like this. they all did. he remembers -- vague and blurry -- arriving at hope’s peak, knowing his life was about to change. he remembers -- vague and blurry -- daydreaming about making new friends, of class photos and happy memories. of belonging to something bigger than himself.

none of this is vague, now. it’s sharp and vivid and now, he realises, more realistic.

_bang._

every time he voted for one of them, he felt like he had personally pulled the trigger. and he had, hadn’t he? it was always him that delivered the final blow, that pulled out the last bit of evidence to throw into a killer’s face.

and oh, he doesn’t want to doubt his friends, but some of them knew, too. but they’d let him tell everyone. they’d demand that he do it -- maybe that’s just the oxygen he can’t get to his brain twisting things around.

or maybe they just knew better. maybe they didn’t want the blood on their own hands.

_bang_.

the worst part is that he could see them, if he tried. if he turned his head to the side -- these executions would be meaningless without the audience -- he could look at them. and do what? it’s too late to rescue him; those last seconds of desperation would bring nothing to their lives.

still, he wonders. he’d wondered since the second monokuma said _it’s him, he’s the killer._ in theory, only two people would’ve had to vote for him. that’s almost worse to imagine that an unanimous vote, though; he doesn’t want them to be divided even now. 

there’s no more blood on their hands than there are on his. he just doesn’t know how much blood that is. 

_ bang. _

did the others look? did they want to know how the survivors felt watching their world get torn to pieces? or were they too panicked, too overwhelmed -- did they even get the chance?

oh, their executions were so, so loud. so horrific. no, they wouldn’t have had time to think. ultimate baseball player, deafened by the sound like applause at one of his games -- ultimate biker left spinning on black ice -- ultimate gambler hidden in her own lies until it all crashes down around her.

ultimate average high school student will go out with a

_ bang _

and his own thoughts. and he’s wondering now if either of those will mean much in the long run.

he realises, then, that no one else had the time to think about it. maybe that's the irony here -- he gets to sit here with tunnel vision and a tight chest and listen to himself think. because there’s always irony, isn’t there? there’s nothing special about his execution, and that, in itself, is special. 

wait, his thoughts are scattered. it’s important that he figures this out. does the irony come from how unironic this execution is? or is the irony in forcing him to listen to his own thoughts when they were never all that important? certainly not important now, not when he can barely finish a -- 

_bang_.

he never hated himself. he just _never hated_ everyone else more. there’s nothing wrong with being normal. the world needs normal people, you know? not everyone needs to be super interesting -- the world needs someone who just wants everything to be okay. someone willing to risk their lives to save everyone else.

he just wishes he weren’t that someone.

_bang_.

the entire room shakes, every time. is the irony in that everyone else has to feel it this time? when it happens, at least, his death will be instant --instant, and all for him -- this waiting, these mini earthquakes, are felt by everyone, if to a lesser emotional extent. 

he trusts too much, maybe, shares his conviction with everyone, and now they get to share this with him, too. but like his optimism, like the evidence, like the blood still rushing through his veins and the breath still tearing itself through his nose, it will all end with him. 

_bang._

he forgives them. it isn’t their fault. they’re doing what they need to do -- they have no way of knowing that this was all a lie, that he wasn’t the killer, that monokuma is breaking the rules here. he forgives them. he forgives them. he could shout that, absolve them, but he isn’t sure that he’s even breathing anymore.

no, that’s wrong. it’d be hard to say the words even if he could. but he does forgive them. he can’t blame them for doing what it takes to save the majority. it’s just that now that he’s about to die, he’s rethinking his life.

was he

_bang_.

ever really useful?

_bang_.

togami knows how to lead,

bang.

knows what is prudent. 

_bang_.

kirigiri can solve any cases they come across, 

_bang_. 

heaven forbid there be another.   


_bang_. 

it's right behind him, now, and the space behind his eyes is so tight it hurts and he's grateful, he's happy that he doesn't have to spend his last second thinking.

it must be his luck, then, when everything falls silent. an extra moment to worry, an extra moment to wish it would happen already. maybe it’s just time slowing down before it all ends. he looks up. he sees.

the world falls out from under him.


End file.
